Black Shadows
by RAB01
Summary: A collection of short stories focusing on important moments in the lives of different Blacks. Sirius' sorting. Charis' wedding. More to come. Previously a one-shot.
1. Turn of the Tides: Sirius

"Black, Sirius," a stern looking women called in the front of the room. The Slytherin table perked up as they watched the wavy, black haired eleven year old boy walk carefully and slowly up to the stool in the front of the Great Hall.

His mind was racing as he thought of which house he would want to be in. It wasn't the first time these thoughts entered his head. No, they had been occuring all day, ever since he first got on the train. Before today, if you would have asked him, Sirius Black would have said _'Slytherin'_ without a doubt, continuing in the foot steps of many generations of Blacks before him. They all had been Blacks. Every last one of them. Except his cousin, Andromeda. While the family had been disappointed in her when the Sorting Hat uttered the word _'Ravenclaw'_ rather than 'Slytherin' five years previous, the family was at least pleased she did not manage to get into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor--that would be too much of a disgrace for the family of Blacks.

Sirius knew he would not get into Ravenclaw. That much he was certain. Sure he was smart, but he was a different kind of smart. He hated studying and would rather use his knowledge to pull pranks and create new inventions for those pranks. No, he would not be in Ravenclaw with Andromeda. No way at all.

He also knew he could never be a Hufflepuff, which we cause deep humiliation to his family. He was a kind boy, but not _Hufflepuff _kind. His loyalty, while strong to those he cared for the most, was not quite what Hufflepuff would be looking for. Sure he was hard working, but only when it came to his pranks and trying to flirt with a girl. No, he would not be a Hufflepuff. That much was certain.

As he slowly took a seat in the stool in front of him he pondered his remaining options: Slytherin and Gryffindor; remaining apart of his family or turning into a traitor; a mudblood hater or a muggle lover; evil or brave; hated by Hogwarts or hated by his family; a Death Eater or an anti-Voledmort fighter.

He slowly turned his head towards a messy, black-haired boy standing in the crowd below. James Potter. James gave him a look of shock after he heard the teacher utter the name 'Sirius Black.' _'I guess I should have realized he would learn my name eventually,'_ thought Sirius. Until a few hours ago when he met the young boy on the train, he knew without a doubt he would be placed into Slytherin, but now, now he wasn't sure. He thought back to his early moments meeting James Potter...

_"Hey, do you mind if I sit here," a skinny, messy-haired boy with glasses asked as he pointed to the seat across from Sirius.___

_"Sure," Sirius answered, unsurely. "So what house do you think you'll be in," Sirius asked, trying to make conversation.___

_"Oh without a doubt Gryffindor. My whole family has been in Gryffindor for as long as anyone can remember--though I did have an Aunt in Ravenclaw... I really couldn't imagine anyother house for me. I'm not nice enough to be a Hufflepuff or smart enough to be a Ravenclaw." James ruffled up his hair and gave Sirius a smile as he spoke.___

_"Not the Slytherin type either, I presume," Sirius asked him, his worries growing.___

_"Of course not! That bunch is evil. They hate people just because they are muggle or muggle-born. How can you judge someone like that without knowing them? How can you care so little for others just because they come from different background from you? Most people these days are half-bloods or less. If we only married other purebloods we'd all die out," James asked getting slightly worked up. "So, err, my name is Potter, James Potter," he said trying to calm down. "What's your name?"___

_Sirius Black really did not wish to answer that question. So he decided to be safe. "Sirius," he uttered, leaving it like that.__  
_The teacher placed an old, dirty hat on Sirius Black's head and the eyes pouring into him disappeared as the hat slipped down his head and covered his eyes.

_"Hmm, another Black, eh," _the Sorting Hat uttered in his head. "_You are a tough one, that is for sure. Will you follow in the steps of your family or wil you rebel and become your one man? Difficult, very difficult. You're not a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw, I'll tell you that much. But Gryffindor or Slytherin?"_Sirius thought back to his family... Andromeda over in Ravenclaw, Bellatrix and Narcissa over in Slytherin, with Regulus no doubt joining them the following year. He thought about James, who would be sorted into Gryffindor in a matter of minutes. He thought about what he wanted to become, what he wanted to do with his life. He thought about the girl he met on the train...

_He had been sitting with James discussing quidditch for nearly a quater of an hour, quietly avoiding the subject of Slytherin and family, when the compartment door slid open, and in walked the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life.___

_"Do you mind if I sit here," she asked as she brushed her bright red hair out of her face. Her beautiful green eyes sparkled as she looked at Sirius and then James.___

_"Sure, Dollface," James answered with a smirk, as he patted the seat next to him.___

_The girl rolled her eyes, but shut the door behind her and took the seat next to Sirius.___

_"I'm James Potter," James said, messing up his hair even more, "Perhaps you heard of my parents, Alan and Rose Potter? The famous Aurors?" he asked, trying to impress her.___

_"Uh, what are aurors?" she asked, unsurely.___

_"Oh, are you a muggle-born," he asked her, as he puffed out his chest, trying to impress her another way.___

_"Umm, yes," she answered, in the same, unsure voice.___

_"What's your name Beautiful, or should I just call you Beautiful?" James asked.___

_"Lily Evans," she replied. "And you are?" she looked over at Sirius.___

_"Sirius," he replied. Once again refusing to utter his last name. She gave him a confused look, but let it go.__  
_He thought of her again and realized how kind she was. She was a muggle-born, but yet, there was nothing wrong with her, as his family had told him on many occassions. She wasn't really any different than any pureblood. '_I would never want to hurt her, like my family would,'_ Sirius thought as her face came to mind again. _' I don't want my brother to be like them--to be evil and hate someone because of their blood. I want him to escape and get away from that. He deserves so much better. I deserve so much better. I don't want to be like my family.' ___

_"You don't, do you?"_ the Sorting Hat's voice returned in his head_. "Well that just makes my job much easier. I guess you don't belong in Slytherin after all... better be..._** GRYFFINDOR!"** He shouted the last word for the whole Hall to hear.

As soon as the Hat uttered that one word, Sirius knew his life would never be the same again. He was a new man. Wheter that was good or bad, Sirius didn't know yet. He betrayed his family, but yet, he realized they were wrong... perhaps it was them to betrayed him a long time ago when they feed him lies of mudbloods and blood traitors.

The teacher took the hat off of his head and he was greeted by silence. He looked to Andromeda--she gave him a small, unsure smile, telling him she was worried for him. Narcissa's mouth had dropped as she stood looking at him, trying to figure out if it was another one of his countless jokes. Bellatrix was glaring at him as much as she possibly could, as was the rest of the Slytherin house.

Nobody in Gryffindor bothered to clap or yell. Sirius looked to James, and realized he had a small smile playing on his lips. He gave Sirius a slight nod of the head as he continued to look at him. Sirius looked over to Lily, her face was bright with a smile, though she looked more worried for her own sorting than anything else. Of course she wouldn't really realize the big deal of him getting sorted into Gryffindor.

Sirius got off the stool and slowly walked over to the Gryffindor table. By this time tomorrow he'd have at least 3 howlers telling him what a disgrace he was to the Black family.

In one moment everything changed. One word sealed his fate. Everything just changed in the life of Sirius Black. A turn of the tides.


	2. The Duty of A Black: Charis

Hey Guys,

**Here is a short story focusing on Charis Black. I had written this for a challenge, but I decided to add it on to my one-shot about Sirius' sorting and make a collection of stories about the Black family. Of course most of this is made up by me (well the plot anyways), while every single character name was invented by JK Rowling. This is just a few short moments right before Charis' wedding. I hope you like it.**

Thanks,

RAB

**T HE . D U T Y . O F . A . B L A C K**

_The wedding of Charis Black._

I have always felt that my name was contradicting itself; perhaps that means I should be more of an enigma myself. I guess in a way that may be true; sometimes I am more adequately described by my first name and sometimes by my last.

You see I just so happen to be from the 'most noble and ancient house of Black' and according to every one of my relatives, that is something that I should be forevermore proud of. I guess I am. I know that because I am a pureblood, I am better than everyone else. I know that because I am a Black, I am more "noble" than everyone else. But than again, I am just some "silly girl".

To make it even worse, I am the youngest of three girls. So maybe that shouldn't be so bad, but my parents were rather disappointed that they didn't have a boy to 'pass on the family name,' but of course I have several male cousins who can go ahead and do that.

Black is so much more than just a color. Black is gloomy, pessimistic, threatening, evil, just to put it lightly. Not exactly something you would outwardly consider being proud of, but then again, my family was never very normal.

My first name, however, is Charis. Charis is Greek for grace and kindness… kind of like the opposite of black and kindness is not exactly the ideal character treat for a Black, who, after all, are suppose to be "threatening and evil."

Being the youngest, I was always a favorite among my parents and grandparents. My mother would dolt on me, insisting on dressing me in the latest wizarding fashions, like I was some fancy doll. Father would baby me and always enjoyed introducing me to all of his friends and of course their sons.

My eldest sister, Callidora, was the intellectual one. She excelled at all of her lessons and would always get into heated discussions over the latest politics with Father's friends. Sure she wasn't drop dead gorgeous, but she was attractive in her own way, and the way she cared herself always made her seem more beautiful. Naturally, she was a Slytherin, as was expected of her, and she was even Head Girl her seventh year at Hogwarts, something I could never dream of doing. Three years ago she married a Longbottom, a respected pureblood family, and she is currently pregnant with her first child… my future niece or nephew!

My middle sister, Cedrella, use to be my favorite sister. Don't get me wrong, I still love her, of course, but I cannot exactly go around flaunting that to the rest of my family. You see last year she did one of the most horrifying things a Black can do… marry a blood traitor; and if that isn't bad enough, he was a Weasley. Part of me envies her… she married a man for love, not because it was her duty to do so. She escaped from what would probably be a loveless marriage, which will certainly be my own fate. Nobody ever really saw it coming. She was a Slytherin, a prefect, and had never outwardly disobeyed our parents before. All of a sudden, one day I found her in her room, packing up her clothes and walking away from the family to elope with some redheaded boy with hand-me-down robes… obviously a Weasely. I haven't talked to her since and of course my parents would scold me to no end if they ever found out I even wanted to speak with her.

And then there is me. Simple, little me. Well… scratch that; a Black is never simple, nor little. We are far too important for that nonsense.

At Hogwarts, to no one's surprise, I was a Slytherin. Unlike my two elder sisters, however, I was never a prefect; academics just were not my strong point. Mind you, I wasn't stupid, but when you are a young child and you have your parents, your grandparents, your cousins, aunts, and uncles all telling you that you are so beautiful, you are going to make an excellent wife and mother one day, and how unimportant your brain will be for you, achieving O.W.L.S. in every subject is not something you kill yourself over to achieve.

My secret desire at school had always been to play quidditch. I loved the game and I would spend countless hours on my own outside, flying around the pitch, allowing myself to feel the wind in my dark hair. Of course, Mother and Father would never allow me to actually play on the house team, let alone the fact that Slytherin never allowed girls on the team (they all insist us girls are to delicate for such a sport). I doubt anyone else knew with my obsession with the game… well except for _him_.

At the start he would just watch me fly around the pitch as I searched for the snitch I had let loose, but eventually Charlus Potter would challenge me and the two of us would compete to capture it first. We would both spend hours after dark flying on the pitch. Sometimes he would beat and more often I would beat him to it, allowing my thin, pale fingers to grasp around the small, golden ball.

He was arrogant, popular, a show-off and smart. Somehow, though, I found myself looking forward to my times with him in the very dark of the night. None of my friends knew I hung out with him and none of his friends knew; it was just our little secret.

He was undeniably handsome, the way he ruffled his hair, smirked, and laughed at my foolishness. I found myself thinking about him even when he was not around. He was the last person I thought of before I drifted off to sleep and the first person I wanted to see in the morning (though that never happened.)

Charlus was in my year, but was almost a full year older than I. He always seemed more mature than my childish thoughts. Of course, I acted like "a lady" by my mother's standards most of the time, but there was still a part of my eight-year-old self that would come alive in Charlus' presence.

_We were both outside in the darkness of the night, flying around searching with all of our might for the small, golden, winged ball. The partial moon was barely visible in the night sky, but it provided us with just enough light to find the snitch._

_Finally I see it near the edge of the trees and quickly, but quietly I urge my old school broom forward, hoping Charius will not notice my sudden sighting. I wonder to myself why my parents could not have possible bought a broom for me, but I know they were worried I would do something so unladylike as actually riding it._

_I hear a noise behind me and I know Charius has realized what I am doing. His broom is much faster and it is only a matter of seconds before he is directly behind me. I can feel the sky getting dark as the storm clouds arrive out of thin air. Forcing my broom forward I am able to capture the snitch in my small hand, just as the rain begins to fall from above._

_  
"Ha ha," I laugh, cheerfully, knowing that I have beaten Charius at his own game (he is after all a seeker for Ravenclaw.) I clutch the ball tightly but thrust it forward so he can see it in my thin hand. "I beat you," I say and then for dramatic effect I add "again," as an afterthought._

"_Well it is a good thing you don't play on your house team, or Ravenclaw would never win a match," he tells me in way that makes me feel proud of my accomplishment._

_I laugh again, though I can feel my stomach tightening as I wish I could play on my house team. Slowly I make my way to the ground, letting my feet touch the ground before I get off my broom. The rain is still falling and I turn around to comment on this to Charius, when I realize he is right there, only a mere two inches a way from my face._

"_It's raining," I say dumbly, before he reaches down and places a delicate kiss on my rosy red lips._

"_I can see that," he whispers, his lips just barely touching my own, before leaning back down to kiss me again, my hands reaching up to play with his hair as I smile into his lips._

He was my first kiss and I wanted him to be my last, but things have a way of not working out the way you planned, especially when you are a Black.

My dress is pure white and it hangs tightly to my body as I sit patiently in an elegant chair. The chair is the mere essence of proper, but despite it being so expensive, I find it rather uncomfortable. It is a dark green with a black trim and a high back. The white of my dress clearly stands out against the dark color of the chair as I lightly drum my fingers on the table before me.

"Charius, Darling, don't do that; it is very unbecoming," my mother informs me as she stands behind me, fixing my hair into tamed curls. I glance around the room slightly, but my mother holds my head in place, using her wand to gently curl each strand of hair.

My oldest and (according to our family tree) only sister stands in front of me, smiling with joy as she glances down at her own rings, before looking at the ring on my left hand, as if comparing them to see who 'got the better deal.'

My cousin, Lycoris, uses her wand to apply my make-up. She is in her early thirties, fifteen years older than I and unmarried. Knowing her, she will probably never get married, especially at her age. Her nose is held high, clearly revealing her 'I'm better than you' attitude, but nonetheless she still pretends to act kindly towards me. I can see it in her eyes that she is okay with the fact that she never got married. Lycoris is not the type of person to be tied down to another and she most certainly could careless about having kids. She finishes my make-up, before looking over in the mirror on the wall to do her own.

My cousin, Cassiopeia, plays with her hair, while gushing over the beauty of my dress. "It looks so wonderful on you," she says, reassuringly. Despite being four years older than I and in her early twenties, she has not yet gotten a husband, either. However, my Uncle Cygnus has surely been in talks with the Goyle's, about her marrying their eldest son. I pity her if it should come to that. She is most certainly my favorite girl cousin and although she has no problem hating muggles and mudbloods like the rest of the family, she is always so kind and big sister-like to me.

Dorea, my youngest cousin, stands next to my sister, playing with her bridesmaids dress. She smoothes out some nonexistent wrinkles, before noticing Callidora looking at my engagement ring. Dorea is only a year younger than I and yet she feels so much older. Her hair is done in a very elegant up-do and her emerald green dress looks perfect against her tan skin. I watch her glance down at her own engagement ring and I feel my stomach tighten in jealous. Dorea is set to marry Charlus Potter next year.

"All set, Darling," my mother says to me as she steps away from the chair. She looks around the room to make sure all of my cousins and sister are perfectly ready for the wedding. Once she realizes everything is in order she comes back and faces me. "Oh, Darling, you look positively magnificent. I'm sure you are going to be very happy married to Casper Crouch," she tells me and I force myself to hold back the tears in my eyes.

I don't want to marry Casper Crouch. I want t marry Charlus Potter. I don't love Casper and no matter what anyone says I will never love Casper, for my heart will only ever belong to Charlus.

There is a knock on the door and my mother speaks a clear, "enter," allowing the knocker (or in this case knockers) to come into the room.

"Oh Precious, you look beautiful," my father exclaims as he comes over to kiss my cheek. He his dressed up in his best dress robes, a smile on his face, as he prepares to give away his youngest and last daughter to a man she hardly even knows.

Don't get me wrong; I am not being _forced_ into this marriage. I know that this is my duty to my family and I fully intend to go through with the ceremony. Perhaps if I was as brave as my (ex-) sister, Cedrella, I would somehow find away to convince Charlus to run away with me and get married. But instead I listen carefully to the instructions my parents give me and I do it, because I am a Black and I know what my duty is to my family.

Behind my father, stand several additional family members.

My oldest cousin, Arcturus, and his wife, Melania, stand elegantly pose as they both wish me good lucky; kissing my cheeks and gazing down at the large stone on my left hand's ring finger. The have been married for quite sometime now, as Arcturus is eighteen years older than I. The two them are the perfect replica of what the Black family is suppose to be. Their two children are not much younger than I. The oldest, Lucretia, is at Hogwarts and the youngest, Orion, will follow in a few years.

My cousin Regulus has yet to be married as well. He is thirteen years older than I and still might possibly get married, though it is doubtful. His dark hair outlines his face as he comes over to kiss my cheek, before standing off to the side, beside Lycoris. He is a rather strange man, in my opinion.

Pollux and his wife, Irma, walk up to take their turns in kissing my cheek. Pollux is seven years older than I, but the way he carries himself, makes him seem so much older. He and his wife already have three children, the oldest he had when he was thirteen. I know, odd right? She was born the same year as my cousin Arcturus' oldest child. The two of them make their way out of the room to take their seats.

Distantly I hear music playing and I know the wedding is about to begin.

First, Lycoris kisses my cheek, before being escorted by her brother, Regulus, out of the room, and down the walkway, where family and guest sit on either side.

Cassiopeia and my mother take their turns kissing my cheek, before they two head down the same path Lycoris and Regulus had just taken.

Then, I see him for the first time. Standing beside my current least favorite cousin, Dorea, is the man I wish I was marrying. Dorea breaks away from him to kiss my cheek. Charlus follows suit, coming over to kiss my cheek. Just before he pulls away, I can hear him whispering in my ear, "I love you, Charis." Before I can say anything at all, Dorea and him are leaving the room, arms linked.

My sister Callidora offers me a smile and a kiss, before she walks out of the room with her husband, Harfang Longbottom.

"Are you ready, Precious?" my father asks me, as he reaches over to kiss my cheek, again. His eyes sparkle with delight as he offers me a hand to get up out of the chair and hands me the roses on the table beside me.

I force a smile, trying to make it as real as possible. My father reaches over pulls my veil over my face.

Here I am, on my wedding day. I should be happy. I should be excited about the coming years and having children. I should look forward to growing old with this man. But instead, all I can do is let my mind drift off to a certain Charlus Potter. Why am I marrying Casper, if Charlus loves me? Why did I never get the chance to tell Charlus that I loved him back?

As I walk with my arms linked with my father's down to where my husband is, I cannot help but wish I was seeing Charlus there, instead of Casper. But I know, with all my heart, I have to do this; it is my duty as a Black.

A Black forevermore.

**I hope you liked it. Thanks for reading and I hope to get more of these little stories out soon. I'd love suggestions for which Black to do next. Just let me know. : )**

Thanks,

RAB


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